


the wolf spirit wants what the wolf spirit wants

by comets



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anxious!Farkas, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Drinking, Emotions, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Kissing, Love Confessions, Lust at First Sight, Naked Cuddling, Sex, Sexual Content, Sleeping Together, Soap in Skyrim, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comets/pseuds/comets
Summary: Siorethi, a Redguard fresh from Hammerfell, arrives in Whiterun and is quickly swept into the folds of the Companions. She also catches the eye of a certain "icebrained" lycanthrope. He's been pining after her for a while, and after a surprise, he tells her how he feels! What will happen next?
Relationships: Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Farkas, Farkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s), Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Farkas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	the wolf spirit wants what the wolf spirit wants

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! This is a sort of beginner fic about my OC Redguard Siorethi (background and artwork still in the works) and Farkas. I'm hoping to finish the backstory soon, and that should be part of the same series once I get everything situated. There'll probably a less explicit explanation of them getting together in her actual backstory as well, but I really wanted to pump this out as soon as possible. Anyway, thanks for reading all of this, and I hope you enjoy the fic!
> 
> note: My beta reader had a hand in the title.

Early morning in Whiterun often brought the sound of birds chirping and residents waking to go about their daily tasks. The Plains District was often awake and bustling before the Cloud District above it. Since most of the buildings at the top of the steps were residential, the area was often much quieter. Anoriath and Carlotta tried drawing in the passersby to their stalls. Fralia had hushed conversations with the women that stopped at her jewelry stall in front of the Bannered Mare. Children darted about between the stalls and up the stairs to the Cloud District. The sky was clear, dotted by stringy clouds that rolled by. Second Seed in Skyrim brought crisp air and warm sunshine. Mountain flowers of all colors, lavender, and tundra cotton lined the outsides of buildings. The fragrances blended and created a sweet mixture.

Most of the members of the Companions in Jorrvaskr tended to wake with the sounds of the hold. Especially the members of the Circle: the beast blood within them didn’t allow for restful sleep. Typically, Skjor, Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas were awake as the sun rose over the horizon. Kodlak, suffering from illness, was never hounded about sleeping in later than the others. Aela and Skjor often thought the blood flowing through their veins as a blessing. They could hunt through the night and sleep minimally through the early morning hours. The two still awoke at a similar time as their Shield-Brothers. However, they typically found it was harder for them to stay focused and train hard when they did so. Vilkas and Kodlak often bemoaned inwardly. Even though they went to bed at reasonable hours, they still felt like they had minimal sleep.

Farkas stood somewhere in the middle. There were times when he was rather grateful that his beast blood kept him awake. This was particularly true during jobs where they needed to be alert for hours at a time. There were other nights, though, when he wished he could fall into bed and sleep as effortlessly as the whelps. It was all a part of the gift (or curse, depending on who asked) that they received from Hircine. A large part of him accepted it. He often didn’t have reason to be up rather early or sleep in, seeing as the jobs weren’t going anywhere. And some of his Shield-Siblings were also without sleep late into the night. It made training within or outside of Whiterun’s walls easier.

Today felt different, though. The night before had brought a more restful sleep than usual, but something seemed off when he awoke. There was a new source of warmth on top of him. Quiet snores filled his room as he recalled what had happened the night before.

***

All the Companions had gathered in the main hall. The fire roared in the middle of the huge, oblong room. The shields, war hammers, and swords lining the walls glittered in the light. The gold thread woven into the red tapestries shone warmly against the red and orange of the flames. Wax candles dripped from the chandelier hanging in the rafters. The dining area was set lower into the floor, and the stone beneath the tables reflected a dull gleam. The wooden fixtures around the sunken area sank back into the dark.

Farkas had had a couple of mugs of mead and multiple plates of good food. So had Siorethi, their newest recruit who was flying through the ranks. Initially, Aela, Skjor, and Vilkas had been rather difficult with her. She had trained with Vilkas and after nearly knocking him onto his ass, there was a new glint in his brother’s eye. To Farkas, it resembled a budding respect. Being sent on errands and small jobs afterwards helped raise her reputation before she started her trial. Skjor, after getting information from a scholar about a shard of Wuuthrad, directed her and Farkas off to Dustman’s Cairn. 

The two trekked to the burial ground and confronted a horde of Silver Hand warriors and draugr. He had been forced to transform while she was cornered in a gated alcove. To his knowledge, she was the first whelp to see the beast form that the Circle members could morph into. Farkas could hear the pounding of her heart as she first laid eyes on the fearsome creature he was. When the Nord had defeated the group, he found the release lever for the gate and hurried back to her. There were questions, but she did not seem to be angry. 

They progressed after their short discussion. More Silver Hand and draugr tried to ambush them, but they were on guard for one another. Siorethi had sustained minor injuries before they came to the last chamber that housed a fragment of Wuuthrad and a glowing wall. After pocketing the fragment, she walked up to the wall and absorbed whatever was embedded in it in a white, wind-like light. She turned her attention to a chest near the wall. The lids of the sarcophagi lining the room popped open, and waves of draugr assailed them. They defeated the undead, and after she rifled through the chest, they exited the tomb.

After finding out about how the Silver Hand set them up, Skjor went looking into his previous source. Farkas and Aela busied her with odd jobs around Whiterun for a short while. Then, Skjor and Aela offered Hircine’s gift to Siorethi under the cover of the moon. She accepted. 

It had been a little over a week since she had taken the gift. A week since she had hunted with Aela and Skjor and a week since Skjor’s death. To raise everyone’s spirits after mourning, they had partied in typical Companion fashion--with free-flowing spiced mead that had the bite of dragon’s tongue blossoms and food. The table was covered in salmon steaks, roasted venison, vegetable and beef stews, and roasted vegetables. The whelps often became rowdier as the alcohol flowed, and their bellies filled. One would often say something another disagreed with. The disagreement would start off around the volume of a normal conversation before pointed words were said on one end. The bickering would rise in volume, and one side would stand to challenge the other. Within minutes, they were on the floor, all flying fists and battle retorts as they fought. It would be over soon enough. Kodlak had told the more experienced members to let the new ones be: fighting was part of the bond they all shared.

It had only been the second “celebration” she had been to, the first being after her own initiation. Siorethi was sitting at the long table, chatting away and laughing between Ria and Athis. The roaring fire between the three tables and the candles on them lit up her features. Seeing her fitting into the fold made something warm rise in his belly. They had not had a new member to the Circle in years, and she seemed to step into the role like she belonged there.

He had been a little struck when he first saw her. Redguards rarely came through Whiterun since it was relatively far from Hammerfell. She had been happening towards town when he, Aela, and Ria were taking down a giant. He remembered a single steel arrow shot through the sky before they saw her, and the giant was already crumpling to the ground when she neared the group. She was tall for a woman, her forehead below eye-level for him. Her chestnut skin shown with a thin layer of sweat beneath her carved, fur-lined steel armor. He noticed her armor did not have the pauldrons his armor had. The excess space between her neck and the collar of the armor betrayed that it was too large for her. The dingey tint and smatterings of blood convinced him she retrieved it from a corpse. Aela had begun chatting her up about joining them with how good her shooting arm was when Siorethi and Farkas made eye contact. 

She smiled and gave a nod, the loose hairs in the dark braid over her shoulder dancing in the light breeze. The two of them were a few feet away from one another, and he could make out her features. Her lips were full. Her nose slender but with a small hump at the top, possibly from being broken previously. The eyes it sat between were a deep brown. Shaped eyebrows knitted somewhat as she concentrated on what Aela said. She was beautiful, especially with how openly she seemed to speak to him and his shield-sisters. She especially hit it off with Ria, possibly because the Nord woman was straightforward with her words no matter the topic or the listener. Once she felt sure Farkas was not coming forward to introduce himself, Ria did so for him.

Now, the Redguard woman was clad in studded armor to match a couple of the other whelps while in the hall. He agreed, sometimes the heavy armor was stifling. The roaring fire between the tables enhanced the heat within the hall, making it even harder to bear. Through scattered conversations, he found out she enjoyed being at the forge and making her own armor. However, her skills in forging light armor surpassed her experience with any kind of heavy armor. She had admitted the steel armor he had first seen her in was something of her own creation, which explained why it fit poorly. The light armor that she wore now fit more snugly and hung on her appropriately. He could see her arm muscles flexing as she moved to wrap an arm around Ria or reach across the table for something. Her neck led with a soft, graceful dip into her jutting collarbones. The leather was like a second skin to a warrior.

Farkas had been gazing too long because next to him, Vilkas leaned in to whisper, “You’ve been eyeing her for a while, brother. Are you . . . sweet on the new one? From how you have been watching her talk with Athis and Ria, one would think you were waiting to get the lass alone.”

Farkas gave a grunt, neither confirming nor denying the implications of the questions. He sat back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. She had plenty of good qualities. The whelps praised and looked up to her. Aela had found a friend who helped her through losing her mate. All of them had gained a new Shield-Sister that would give her life for them. What was to dislike?

But when Farkas focused on what he gained other than a Shield-Sister, he found it difficult to put how he felt into words. Sometimes it was hard to speak around her. Since they had first met, her smile made him smile. He hated seeing her in pain, even if it was from a scratch. He knew she did not need protecting. But he thought back to when they had returned from Dustman’s Cairn and how he had vouched for her to the rest of the Circle. He meant it when he said he would fight at her back for as long as he was standing. 

“I think I might be,” Farkas responded.

He recalled one of the jobs that he accompanied her on. A bear they were contracted to kill attacked a Bosmer hunter. They worked together to slay the bear and collected the pelt and claws. As they were leaving, a strangled groan echoed from a corner of the cave. The pair inched towards the sound, and they found the hunter, chest sliced open and bloody. That was also when he found out she could use basic healing magic. She cast the spell, hands over the wound. When her magicka got too low, she would reach into the pouch at her waist and retrieve a potion to drink. After about a half hour of consistent healing, she was exhausted. But the man would live. Farkas lifted the man onto his back and carried him into the city walls. She dismissed her Shield-Brother’s praises and denied payment from the Wood Elf. 

He could not think of a single person she treated badly. She often spent her free time up at the Skyforge with Eorlund, and their conversations were sometimes audible from the spar yard. The older Nord scolded her whenever she dented a piece of heavy steel or iron armor before helping her hammer it out. She learned from him, and some of her works were considered well-made. Siorethi had become fast friends with Adrianne Avenicci because of how much business the Redguard brought to her smithy. She sold the pieces she thought good enough for battle and shared the profits with Eorlund.

When Siorethi was not up at the Skyforge, she was behind Jorrvaskr, training with the whelps. Farkas appreciated her assistance whenever they were getting out of hand. He had watched her disarm not only Athis and Torvar but also Vilkas at least a couple of times. The smile that she sported after she bested them seemed like one of camaraderie. She sheathed her weapon and always offered a hand to help them up. He thought she was wonderful, potentially a blessing.

As he recalled the various memories, Farkas could feel his alcohol-induced blush deepening. There was a lot about her he liked. So much so that he had given up outright denying his feelings. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure Vilkas heard it. Siorethi could also probably hear the change if she listened closely enough, but he prayed to the Nine that was not the case.

***

As the night wound down, most of the Companions descended the stairs to the hall below. Torvar had draped himself over the length of a bench before he passed out. Leather armor askew across his body and blond hair completely disheveled, he looked like he had gotten back from an exhausting job. His mug lay knocked over on the floor near his up-turned palm. His snores were audible on the other side of the hall, but not quite loud enough to break a conversation.

Siorethi and Farkas had moved into a corner closest to the front door. They were clear across the room from Torvar, and both felt like they could talk above a whisper. They sat across from one another at a small table, and their chairs faced outward to the dining area. Siorethi was turned in her chair to Farkas. She was explaining the differences in Skyrim and Hammerfell. Her partner paid rapt attention to her every word.

“Although it is colder here than what I’m accustomed to, the vast plains are breath-taking in the springtime. Seeing so many flowers and trees dot the landscape is a drastic and welcome change from Hammerfell.”

Farkas hung on her every word. The way she seemed to pick and choose which words to use as she spoke even down to the small inflection had him hooked. He couldn’t help affixing his gaze to her, though it would wander from one part of her body to another. He found it hard to choose between watching her lips or keeping eye contact with her as she spoke. 

“It’s . . . pretty hot in Hammerfell, isn’t it? I heard it was sand.”

She nodded and hummed. “In the summer it was unbearably hot when I was a child. But as you get older, the body becomes more acclimated.”

He wondered what she did back in Hammerfell. What did she dress like? What was her favorite thing to do? What was her favorite food? Farkas found himself wondering about a lot of things, but he could only ask one question at a time. He recalled her scrapping the shabby chest plate and breeches she had when she arrived. 

“Was it hard wearing heavy armor when it was that hot?” 

“Oh, I didn’t wear heavy armor then. In fact, it is very rare to find people who do, unless they are sadistic,” She chuckled at her own joke, and Farkas’s heart leapt into his throat. It was the two of them, and he was sure she would be able to hear the change in his heartbeat with her heightened senses. Farkas scratched at his neck as his heartbeat settled. “I wore plainclothes made of cotton or linen because of the heat. If we went out to fight or hunt, we wore light armor.”

Her eyes softened at the memories of her family. “My mother taught all of us how to make and repair our armor and plainclothes. But she never taught us much about heavy armor, and we did not have use for it.” She felt her skin heat up pleasantly at the memory of the Hammerfell sun. 

“In Skyrim, light armor does not feel like enough.” She felt a chill and shook her head. “I was freezing the first couple of nights here. I had to take the warmest things I could find in a bandit camp, and that was only a bedroll. I found a small town after, and the blacksmith let me use his forge to make my armor.”

He tried to imagine her fitting linen clothing. White, green, purple, he thought anything would look great on her. He pulled himself back to reality and didn’t think about what he was saying before it tumbled from his mouth. 

“I could help you sometime,” he blurted. 

The cocked eyebrow that he got in response didn’t seem like a mocking one. Rather, his partner was intrigued. “You can work the forge? Why do I never see you with Eorlund or Adrianne?”

“Aye. It . . . makes me nervous, though. I’d rather be fighting or training,” he admitted. “Iron and steel things are easy, but I haven’t ventured far beyond those. I usually don’t need things better than that anyway since steel works fine for me.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. Though when she leaned forward with a smile, she took him by surprise. What had he said to warrant such proximity?

“Would you be interested in accompanying me to the Skyforge later today, then? It’s okay to say no, but I thought it would be nice to have another person to learn from.”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. Once he saw the taken aback expression on her face, he scrambled to correct her to quell any anxiety he may have caused. “I mean--”

She shook her head as she smiled. “No, it’s alright. I like the ambition.”

Her smile melted something within him, it seemed so genuine and . . . accepting. She did not seem to care that he stumbled over his words and said things that he had to backtrack over. She didn’t mock him, and she would wait for him to correct himself. Or, if what he said worked for her, she would just let what he said be. He was gazing at her for longer than he realized when she slid her chair away from the table. She brought the bottle of mead up to her lips and finished it in a few gulps.

“I actually have something I want to show you, so I’ll be coming to your room in a bit.” He was jarred from silence with the statement. Coming to his room? Why? He was sure he had been attentive for the whole conversation. Telling her no appeared out of the question. 

***

Farkas had walked down the steps to the sleeping quarters with her and they parted at the whelps’ shared room. He had continued down the hall and made it to his room without incident. But now he had taken his boots off and worried his lip as he wondered what she could possibly have to show him. There were a million scenarios that he could think of, but the most notable was her having taken off her armor and leaving on her shift and breeches. Her bare feet pattering against the stone floors of the living quarters as she made her way to his room. The door creaking open softly as to not wake his brother across the hall…

He shook his head and leaned against the bar, dissipating the fantasy before it could go further. But then he straightened in alarm. He hadn’t washed up after leaving the main hall, and he was sure he reeked of sweat and dirt. He slightly raised his arm and sniffed. His nose wrinkled slightly, struck by the ripe smell. 

He loosened the leather straps to his steel chest plate as quickly and quietly as possible. Then he lowered it to the ground before doing the same with his breeches. He removed his leathers and small clothes and neatly stacked the equipment in a chair. He grabbed a cleansing bar and towel from the table near his bed. The wash basin near the towel held a pool of water, and he used it to soak and later the towel. The design of his dark grey warpaint required it to be smudged, but he could feel that it had run from sweating during training earlier in the day. The water that dripped back into the basin was more white or opaque than clear. He sat the bar in the basin and scrubbed at the war paint around his eyes and then the rest of his face. He cleaned himself from top to bottom until he had lathered himself all over. He replaced the cloth in the water and wrung it out. Farkas wiped the soap from his body. Then he lathered the towel again, lathered himself, and wiped himself clean one more time.

He dried himself off and sniffed again, sighing in relief. Though he enjoyed battling and traveling around Skyrim, he would be a fool to deny how good being clean felt. He rifled around for a plain tunic and leggings before finding a set behind the bar. Pulling on the clothes, he tied the breeches at his midsection. A small amount of dark chest hair was visible through the loose neck of the front of his tunic.

As the thought of Siorethi having forgotten crossed his mind, the door to his room creaked open. 

She seemed to have washed up as well, plaiting her black hair over her shoulder. Her tunic was crimson, and her pants were a tawny brown, a few shades lighter than her skin. They both hung on her the right way, her hips catching the hem of her tunic and bunching the sides of it before her thighs. Though her face was always free of paint, the Nord could tell that she had scrubbed away the dirt and sweat from that day. She greeted him fresh-faced and smiling. 

“My apologies for barging in.”

He waved a hand to invite her in. Once his Shield-Sister was within the room, she inched the door closed. She and Farkas were less than three feet away from one another as she peered about the room. His bed, covered in furs of varying sides, was to the right of his door and one side met with the wall. It looked almost big enough to fit two people, if they squeezed in together. A basket, a mead barrel, a small table and a chair lined the wall leading to one corner of the room. On the back wall, there were two sets of shelves, one larger than the other, on opposite ends. There was another mead barrel and three larger barrels stacked between them. She even thought she saw a lute back there, and it piqued her interest. Bottles of mead, wine, and goblets lined the shelves. There was a small table with two chairs in the left corner. Once her eyes landed on the bar to his right, she gave another soft chuckle. He was certain his heart was beating so loudly that Vilkas could hear it from across the hall.

“You have a very,” she trailed off, finishing her distance inspection, “interesting room.”

“Is that a good thing?” Her nod and suppressed laugh pulled at the corners of his lips. He tried to get himself to relax. “Do you, uh . . . did you want a drink or anything?”

She tilted her head in thought “Mmm, I think I’ve had enough for tonight.” She glanced about the room and moved closer to him. They were about a foot apart when his senses filled with juniper and honey. The wolf spirit within him opened its maw, mouth watering at the scent. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper and admitted, “Mead is the best when I don’t get knocked on my ass. I remember being able to drink more before accepting Hircine’s gift.”

He knew how that felt. Initially, he and Vilkas would get drunk under the table by all the other Companions, especially right after the two had been given the beast blood. They had increased stamina, more strength, almost everything. But along with processing food, alcohol ran through their systems like the wolves within them. “Yeah,” he agreed. He wanted badly to reassure her. “Most of us got used to it, so maybe you will too.”

She smiled back hopefully. “Maybe so . . .” She was silent, attention traveling about the room again. She noted his armor perched neatly on the chair near his bed. Next to it was the steel great sword he never left Jorrvaskr without. The weapon reminded her of what she came to his room for. “Anyway, I wanted to show you this.”

Farkas had nearly forgotten she had something for him before she said so. A blue-green hilt shifted behind her back before she brought her arm around to her front. She held the blade through the sheath, the thick, dyed leather protecting her fingers. Bringing the tip up into her free hand, she laid the blade across her palms. The hilt reflected the light from the sconces around the room with a greenish-blue hue, yet Farkas could see straight through it. The sheath was black, dark as pitch, contrasting with the opacity of the weapon. Siorethi removed it from the sheath and the hiss of the not-quite-metal intrigued Farkas. The blade was sharp, looking recently forged and ready for battle. He raised his arm to take it before pausing and clearing his throat. 

“Can I . . .?”

She had hoped he would ask. The Redguard nodded, and a faint prideful expression overtook her features. He took the glass great sword from her hands and weighed it in his palms. Then he gripped the hilt with both hands and held it experimentally. 

Siorethi watched his muscles flex beneath his tunic as she spoke. It was fascinating, watching him try out what she had made. “I came across some malachite ore on a job not too long ago and was thinking of how to use it. I made myself a new shield, short sword, and bow, but still had enough to forge this.”

“You made this?” Farkas asked, eyeing the blade in slight disbelief. It wasn’t that he doubted her skill, but he had never seen something so clear . . .

She hummed softly in the affirmative. “I thought it may fare better than the steel sword you have now. Not to knock Eorlund’s work or yours, but I heard that glass weapons are more powerful than steel or iron.”

Farkas’s brow furrowed for a moment. Then he leveled his gaze back to her. He was hesitant to ask the question in case he was wrong. But the curious itch at the forefront of his mind demanded he know. 

“You . . . made this for me?”

Another affirmative hum, and she stepped even closer. Juniper and honey and the spice of dragon’s tongue mead and wolf filled his nostrils. Each of the members of the Circle had a distinct scent that blended with their human one. It resembled a heady musk, and for Siorethi, it was earthy, like a forest after a heavy rain. He tried to silence the needy whine coming from his wolf spirit as she pointed to the blade of the sword. “Finding malachite can be cumbersome though, so we may need to see Adrianne about purchasing some when the blade needs sharpening.”

All time seemed to have stopped as Farkas processed what Siorethi said. She had made the sword for him. Not Skjor, not Vilkas. Him. He had to reign his brain back in as she continued to talk about repairs and eventual upgrading. He shook his head, reached over, and took the sheath from her. He slid the sword back into it with another hiss. She shifted her eyes to his face and froze as their gazes met.

“Farkas . . .?”

This was the first time he had stopped obsessing over his own reactions to what she did and looked right at her. Felt her presence. He could hear the beat of her heart, sped up from what it normally was. She seemed to search his eyes, not understanding as he leaned past her and propped the sheathed great sword against the doorway.

“Could you sit for a minute?” he requested. She searched his eyes a moment longer before deciding his bed may be the most comfortable. She went to it and sat closer to the pillows. The furs beneath her were soft from use as bedding, and she could not help but run a hand over it.

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t sound vulnerable, rather. . . surprised. As Farkas lowered himself next to her, he exhaled a breath he had not known he was holding. If there was any time to tell her how he felt, there would not be a better time than now. He took a deep breath as he laced his fingers between his parted knees, leaning forward.

His neutral grunt he gave out of habit was followed by a quiet “aye”. There felt like a million ways this could go wrong, but he would never know if he quit before trying. “. . . I’ve admired you for a while.”

Her brows had started to knit before she caught his meaning. She suppressed the urge to beam at the large man and instead settled for a smile. He waited for her response in complete silence, his heartbeat like a war drum in his ears.

Her voice was soft, and had he not been listening so intently, he could have missed her reply. “I admire you too, Farkas.”

‘She doesn’t get that I mean I want to be with her…’ he thought dejectedly. He squared his shoulders, as he heard the beast in the back of his mind unsure of whether words were the way to get his point across. “No, I mean . . .” He brought his hands up to rub at his face before clasping them tightly again. “Siorethi . . .I--”

The Redguard had removed her hand farthest from him from the furs. She reached forward to cover his hands, his knuckles ghostly white with how hard he was clenching his threaded fingers. She leaned in closer to his face, and he turned to look at her. The yellow glint in her eyes told him she understood. He felt like she was only focused on him, the rest of the world falling away from the two of them. She pressed her nose to his before closing her eyes and tilting her head, brushing his lips with her own. His stubble scratched around her lips as she passed over them.

“I know what you mean . . .” she breathed tenderly against his lips. She connected their lips again, this time for a longer moment. All the thoughts battling for attention in his head seemed silent. He returned the pressure, straightening his back to lean towards her. After what felt like only a second, she leaned back. She slid her fingers into the ball of worry the Nord’s hands had become. Her fingers worked to free one hand from his death grip. The sides of her digits were soft as she intertwined them with his.

“I know exactly what you mean. And what I said still stands: I admire you. I feel the same way.” 

He was unsure of what to say. The most he had hoped for was a gentle rejection and the opportunity to still be her Shield-Sibling and friend. But with the way his blood still rushed in his eardrums and the increased pace coming from Siorethi’s heart told him this was much, much better. In the heat of the moment, he listened as the wolf within him howled and begged to be closer. With minimal effort, he curled an arm around her and pulled her closer to him before lifting her onto his lap.

The soft exhale from his partner and thump in her chest told him what he was doing was good. Her smile widened as she found herself facing where she had been sitting from him twisting her around. Her arm was wrapped around her midsection and fingers still intertwined with his around her back.

“Let me readjust . . .” She released his fingers and saw a disheartened expression cloud his features. Taking his now free hand, Siorethi guided it around her waist to meet his other arm. Hers snaked around his neck, hands clasping at the nape. She planted another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as he looked up at her. They were silent for a long moment.

“. . .When did you realize?” he asked, still not sure on what to say.

She gave a soft sigh before scrunching her eyebrows. He could not help but think that he was dreaming. The way she seriously thought about his question made him think there was no way it was a dream. It felt too real.

“It was when we had come back from Dustman’s Cairn, and I had found out the tales about beast blood were real. I was frightened, I will not lie. But you did all you could to make sure that all the Companions would be safe and that I would not betray you. I thought that was very caring. Later, when you vouched for me at the trial, you had smiled at me. I felt like no matter what tried, nothing could overtake us.” 

There was a tightness against his back as she squeezed one hand in the other. A faint blush crossed her cheeks as she remembered the moment.

“You were so sincere, and I was dumbstruck. I was enthralled by you.”

Seeing her face redden at the thought of something he said to her was shocking. He didn’t think that anything he said got his intentions across. But they had . . . 

He tilted his lips to hers and caught them, lingering on her a little longer than before. She relaxed her grip until her hands parted. Her fingers glided up his neck and onto his scalp, goosebumps rising along his back and arms. She gently scratched, receiving a soft grunt in response. As they continued to pepper one another with kisses, a new confidence rose within the Nord. He deliberated within himself before withdrawing. Of course, his wolf wanted her close all the time. But the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable by following his animal instincts. When he withdrew, he locked his blue-green eyes into her attentive gold-brown ones.

“Would you . . . like to sleep here? With me? The bed’s small, but I can make room.”

She raised her eyebrows in response, surprised at how forward he was. “Are you asking me to sleep with you?”

His stuttering response drew a soft giggle before she kissed him again. “I know what you mean, and yes I will. But I do have one question…” She withdrew from his arms, standing next to the table nearest his bed. She was just far away enough for him to take her all in at once. His breath hitched as she unlaced the front of her shift. Her hands nimbly pulled it over her head, the fabric slipping from her fingers and falling to the floor. The breeches followed soon after.

She was completely bare underneath the clothes she had shed. Not even smallclothes or a breast band to keep Farkas’s mind tame. The illuminated sconce played off her brown skin beautifully, creating soft shadows that danced on her body. Her arms were chiseled, leading into her slender hands and fingers. Her breasts looked as though they could fill his entire hand, and her nipples were beginning to pebble as his eyes wandered over her. Her wider chest tapered into her thinner waist. Soft abdominal muscles flexed above her navel. There were marks, like a saber cat’s dark fur markings, that sat on her hips. They seemed to run around to her backside and looked a couple of shades lighter than the rest of her skin. Her legs looked supple yet strong, the muscles beneath visible as she shifted on her feet. His eyes focused on a small patch of black hair above her sex. He could feel the need pooling within him as she reclaimed her spot in his arms. As she had turned, he saw the curve of her backside and he sucked in a breath. 

Drawing her arms around his neck, she brought his attention back up to her face. She could feel him twitch beneath her behind as he was likely anticipating her question. “Would you mind sleeping with me?”

The flush in his cheeks and his hurried nod as he began undressing made her heart swell. She moved herself to sit beside him again as he tore off his tunic and stood to unlace his breeches. He also had not worn smallclothes, causing her to suck in a soft breath when he turned to her, naked as the day he was born.

His shoulders were broad, predictable for the armor he wore. His biceps were thick with corded muscle. The site of them completely bare almost caused a purr to rise in her throat. She wanted his large hands on her at that moment but continued to take in his body. His chest was broad and dusted with hair, the dark strands standing out against his fair Nord skin. His legs were as muscular as his arms, and she knew he could heft her up no problem with all the strength he possessed. She had saved the best for last, letting her eyes land on his cock. It sat at attention, reaching past the dark hair above it and his navel as it curved upward. The trimmed hair at its base was dark, like the hair on his head. It twitched in greeting. She bit her bottom lip.

Siolethi laid back on the bed and shifted upwards. When she was laying against his pillowed, she beckoned him over with a crooked finger. Farkas had to keep his cool as he returned to the bed and kneeled at the foot of it. He had not ever been with anyone before, so he was a little lost on what to do next. His partner breathed a soft “Come”, and he climbed up the bed to her.

Instinctively, one of his hands went to her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. He supported himself with the forearm of the other, not wanting to squish her. He latched onto her lips again. There was another low growl in his throat, louder than the previous one. His lover smiled into their kiss. Her hands traveled up and down his back, stopping at his ass to give it a firm squeeze at one point. He chuckled and let his hand wander from her face, sliding down between them to pinch at one of her nipples.

She bit his lip to keep herself from moaning out loud. Their Shield-Siblings were asleep, and many of the ones close to them would be able to hear her through the walls. He removed his lips from hers to slide his attention a little further down her body. He took one breast in his hand and captured the nipple of the opposite breast in his mouth. He sucked lightly and brushed over it with his tongue. She brought her hands to his head and took small fistfuls of hair before gently pulling at it. He caught her off guard by the breathy, quiet moan that escaped his lips. It was welcome though, the breath fanning over her chest and releasing a pitched sigh from her lips. It was hard for her to ignore Farkas’s subtle grinding against her thigh; the proximity it held to her own heat made her shudder.

One of her hands left his hair, her fingertips grazing his ears and neck as she made her way to her destination. She pinched one of his nipples as she wandered past his chest and relished in his quiet groan. As she neared his waistline, she gently pressed a finger to the slit in his cock. He twitched beneath her touch. He returned his attention to her face. The couple’s eyes were dark and nearly clouded with gold lust. Their lips met again, his hand leaving her breast and meandering down to her thighs. Two fingers slipped between her thighs. There was a pause before he grazed them against her slit. She moaned against his mouth. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, his hand leaving her pussy. It caressed down her skin until he was almost at her knee. Slipping his hand behind her leg, he shifted more weight onto his other arm. He guided her leg upward. When her knee was past his head, he centered his weight again and latched it onto his shoulder.

The golden, wolfish glint in her eyes enhanced the intense gaze she fixed on him. If she was staring at him like that, then her wolf spirit was also endorsing it. He flexed his hips forward, grinding the lower side of his shaft against her lips. As she began to cry out, Farkas adjusted himself again. He brought himself directly above her and curved his back to kiss her as he replaced his cock at her labia. He groaned in quiet surprise when Siorethi moved her hips, using the leg planted on the bed as leverage. He was soon slick with her. She cupped the back of his head, pulling him into their kiss as he ground his hips back against her. They swallowed each other’s moans as the room filled with the smell of sex.

Before long, Siorethi broke their kiss to speak. “I would very much like you inside me right now, Farkas . . .” The need in her voice caused him to twitch again. But he paused and looked at her. His brows had knitted. 

He had not told her he had not been with a woman before. The lust in his eyes faltered and was replaced with uncertainty. Would she think differently of him if he asked for help? He hoped not but asking for help was better than accidentally hurting her. He worried his lip before speaking. 

“I’ve . . .never done this before, so could you he--” She didn’t bat an eyelash. Her hand was finding its way to his length before he was finished. The firm grip she used to guide him elicited a gasp. 

She ground him the head against her clit, rocking her hips to get the most friction. The hitched breath and trembling it brought from her partner made her bite her lip and smile. She finally guided him into her entrance. He felt the small amount of give within her body and sheathed himself within it. Siorethi gave a quiet, satisfied sigh as he filled her. The feeling of her wetness and heat nearly drove him over the edge in an instant. He turned his thoughts to something else, something not sexual. He conjured the image of him skinning an elk in his mind. His breathing evened out, and he finally trusted himself enough to move. 

She brought her lips to his, kissing him. Then she left his lips, dotting wetter kisses along his cheek, jaw, and neck. Feeling the soft breaths against his neck made him snap his hips into her, startling them both.

She gently pushed him back with a hand to his chest. The head of his cock was still buried within her folds as she brought her other leg up to his free shoulder, folding her legs between them. He took a moment to stare down at where they connected, taking one hand and gripping an ass cheek. It was soft yet firm in his hand, and when he looked back to her, he saw that she was rather enjoying him exploring her body. Through half-lidded eyes, she could see a smirk form on his lips. He brought them fully together once again, his thighs pressing flush against her ass. He kissed her before taking her lower lip into his mouth and nibbling on it. The restrained whine that came from her throat egged him on, and he pulled back and snapped his hips into her once again. She was so slick and tight, it felt like she was pulling him into her whenever he pulled away. Her walls pressed in around him, making Farkas exhale. His arm left the bed as he grabbed the back of her neck. He didn’t care if he was squishing her a little bit. He wanted to be inside of her as far as he could go and have his lips on hers.

He felt something slide between them and settle in front of his pelvis. Her fingers were making small, circular motions against her clit. Coupling with the feeling of him pressing against her insides, she felt she would be reaching her peak soon. He wanted to watch her play with herself but figured there would be time for that later. The pressure building in his stomach told him that he would not be able to hold on for long.

Feeling her getting tighter as her orgasm neared made Farkas gasp for breath. He was getting closer far too quickly for his liking, and he arched his back again. He took his hand from her ass and nudged the fingers at her sex away. His thumb replaced them before she could say anything. Her back arched at the sudden and forceful contact between her soft skin and the calloused pad of his finger. He tried to circle her as he had felt her do to herself. Their mouths locked when breathless moans slipped from her lips. Her arms snaked their way around his neck, holding him as close as she could with his hand dividing them. Her legs trembled against his shoulders and her toes curled. Sweat had formed a thick sheen between the two of them, causing their skin to glide as they slid against one another. The hand Farkas had on her neck was warm and slick with sweat. It made the small hairs at the top of her neck stick to his fingers.

“Farkas, I’m . . . I’m really close . . .” she breathed against his lips. He grunted in response before driving into her harder, thumb still pressing into her clit. Her insides tightened. Farkas felt his legs lock up as she spasmed against his length. Her body arched down into the bed to get away from his hand as her eyes screwed shut, but her orgasm pushed him over the edge. He spilled into her relentlessly, cock throbbing as she took his seed. They rode out the ends together, Farkas removing his hand at her request and laying against her. 

Eventually, he softened enough to slip out of her with ease. The liquid trail of the two of them connected his softening member to her slit. If he hadn’t been so tired, that would have worked better than a stamina potion to ready him for another round. He kissed her one last time before withdrawing and kneeling on the bed, giving her legs room to stretch. Siorethi opened her eyes at the lack of his presence. She sighed, her muscles relaxing as he got up. Feeling his weight leave the pelts beneath them, she watched him get up and grab a clean washcloth. He soaked it in the small basin of water and wrung it out before returning to her side. She parted her legs to let him clean her. The way he took care to not press too hard after she gasped from being sensitive was endearing. Once he finished, he used the same cloth to clean himself before tossing it on the bar counter and climbing back into bed with her. 

She scooted over to make room for him, but he patted at his chest once he laid down, motioning for her to get on top of him. She kissed his cheek and nuzzled her nose against his stubble as she climbed on top of him. She secured her arms around his neck. Her weight was comfortable against his chest. Plus, he got to do exactly what he wanted to when he first saw her undress: grip her ass cheeks in both hands. She picked her head up and looked at him a little quizzically. He smirked and shrugged, giving her rear a good squeeze. She smiled back and nuzzled her face back into the crook of his neck.

***

The events from the night before made Farkas smile as he recalled them. He kissed the side of her head and twisted to the side, laying her in the space next to him on the bed. Even though she had the beast blood, she didn’t stir as much as he thought she would have. He had propped up on his elbow looking at her still features. Her dark eyelashes sat against the top of her cheekbones, moving when her eyes shifted behind her eyelids. Small hairs at her temples had come loose from her plait, framing her face and making it look like she had a halo. Her plump lips had parted to let out the soft snores that he awoke to. The bottom of her breasts and top of her abdomen rose and fell with her breathing. His eyes continued to traverse her body and landed at her thighs.

Farkas shimmied down the bed and positioned himself between her ankles. He flexed his fingers, curling his hands into fists and relaxing them. He lifted her right leg and placed it on his shoulder again. Though this time, her thigh sat next to his ear, his face extremely close to her core. There was slight movement on Siorethi’s end, and Farkas paused. When she settled, she buried the side of her face into one of his pillows. He brought up the left leg and settled between them. He planted soft kisses along the inside of her thighs and traveled upwards. His fingers gripped the soft skin of her outer thigh, and he heard her breathing stutter. He stopped again and waited for her breathing to even out. Then he leaned down further, pressing the flat of his tongue against her labia and dragging upwards. The tip of his tongue caught on her clit, and her heartbeat began to speed up. The sound of blood rushing on either side of his head urged him on.

The Nord brought his hands next to her folds, opening her up to him. He was a little dumbstruck that something so small-looking could fit him in his entirety. But he wasn’t complaining or thinking much about it after he wet his tongue well and licked up to her clit again. He took the nub into his mouth, suckling at the sides and running his tongue over the tip. His lover’s thighs tensed before her eyes cracked open. His gaze focused up at her as she turned her attention to the sensation between her legs.

“Farkas, what--oh, gods…!” She didn’t have much time to process what was happening before she felt it full-on. Her back arched and she inhaled sharply. The warmth of his mouth and languid movements of his tongue made her writhe sleepily beneath him. Her hands gripped fistfuls of fur beneath her as she rocked her hips up into his face. One of his hands moved from the side of her opening to take his middle finger and rub it against her heat. His finger became slick with her and he probed at her tightness, slipping his middle finger into her snatch.

Siorethi gazed down at him. One hand came to her breast to play with her hardening nipple and the other brought itself to tangle in Farkas’s hair. The light pressure she applied to the back of his head kept him in her pussy. His senses filled with her as she became wetter. He took a deep breath. The slight saltiness from their sweat and the sweet tang from between her thighs made the wolf within him howl with delight. He could feel his own nether regions twitching at her arousal.

“Where did you . . . get so good at that?” she breathed. His ears perked to focus on the breathy words coming from her mouth. “So good--It’s so good, Farkas, please . . .”

She rocked against him more, feeling his stubble scratch lightly against her. Her body jolted as Farkas pulled softly on and released her clit from his lips. The colder air in the room rushed against her soaked skin. He withdrew his finger from her and dipped his tongue into her, his thumb pressing against her clit again. He drank from her as much as she was willing to give, his nose, mouth, and chin soaked with her. She ground against his tongue, her hand forcing him a little harder against her as she began to shake. 

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop . . .” she begged. He was rock solid, twitching between her legs, but she was the priority. She asked him not to stop, and he wouldn’t stop, not until she was absolutely spent and dozing back off to sleep in his arms. He curled his tongue within her and pressed against her walls, increasing the pressure from his thumb. The wolf within him howled louder, and he did not deny its whims this time as he picked up the pace. Her shaking turned to tremors, her hand flying from her breast and joining the other hand in his hair. Her own wolf was reveling with her, but it also hoped the two would mate again.

“Farkas, I’m so close--it’s--fuck. . .” she panted heavily. Her breaths were shaky as she struggled to fill her lungs with enough air. It set her skin and insides ablaze to watch him work her the way he did. 

“Fuck me with your tongue--yes!” She cried, burying half of her face into his pillow and trying to use it to muffle herself. She contracted around his tongue before he heard her brokenly moan his name.

“Farkas!”

She squeezed his tongue inside of her, her back almost completely leaving the bed but his face still in her. She weathered her orgasm, thighs pressed tight to his ears and fistfuls of his hair in her hands. He drank still until she was dripping from his chin. As she came down, grip loosening and back landing on the furs, she panted. Her eyes were half-lidded, and her pupils blown wide, hiding most of her brown irises.

Farkas wiped his chin on his arm and made his way back up the bed to lay next to her. His hands wandered about her hip and side as she played in his hair. They shared a soft kiss, and she tasted herself on him. She smirked and licked at his chin before capturing his lips again. Siorethi hooked her leg around his thigh, bringing him closer. His arm slipped between her neck and the pillow. She felt that the cook of his neck would become her new favorite place to sleep.

In her post-orgasm haze, she scratched at his scalp. She thought about asking where he learned to do that so well, but it was okay to leave it for later. Her eyelids were heavy, and sleep beckoned. Siorethi planted one more kiss against his skin before her eyes closed. Soon, both of their heartbeats evened out as they drifted back to sleep.


End file.
